


Growing Pains

by TheTyphonSerpent



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Amputation, Cancer, Child AU, Gen, Modern AU, kid AU, tumors
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-25
Updated: 2018-05-25
Packaged: 2019-05-13 13:49:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14750048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheTyphonSerpent/pseuds/TheTyphonSerpent
Summary: Every day after school, Sera and Lavellan play Inquisition. The woods behind their house becomes a fictional world of dragons and magic, their tree house a castle named Skyhold. In this world, Lavellan can pretend her Mark is magic, but it isn't long before her "Mark" begins to threaten her life.





	Growing Pains

**Author's Note:**

> This idea spawned from the DA Prompt Exchange and if you want you should totally check it out for good writing and good ideas: http://dapromptexchange.tumblr.com/
> 
> Find more of my writing on tumblr: typhonserpent.tumblr.com

Seras favorite game was Inquisition.

From the moment she'd met her new friend, Lavellan, they'd formed an ongoing game of pretend.

Every day after school, the woods behind their house became a vast expanse of forests, plains, and deserts. Every puddle was a lake, the pond a vast ocean they called the Waking Sea. The tree house Cullen's father had built became their castle. Dagna made a paper flag with an eye scribbled on it and stuck it at the top.

They called it Skyhold.

They would improvise the history of their world in seconds. If a boy said he was a spellcaster from a faraway desert land, then that's exactly what he was, no questions asked.

All Dorian had to do was pick up a fallen branch to act as his staff.

The first time Imekari had asked to join, Lavellan suppressed a laugh and asked, "You want to be called what?"

"The Iron Bull!" The boy replied, flexing his arms.

There were only two rules: you weren't allowed to throw rocks, and you weren't allowed to talk about Lavellan's arm.

Cassandra had broken that rule on accident early on. Nobody had told her before she and Lavellan were alone in the tree house, and Cassandra brushed a hand against the misshapen growth, asking, "Does it trouble you?"

Lavellan's cheeks darkened, her lips pursed together, "I wish I could get rid of it." She mumbled, looking away. Without another word, she hopped off the edge of the plank porch, and climbed down the two-inch planks that served as climbing handles.

Lavellan didn't go back outside for the rest of that day.

Varric was a stocky blonde-haired boy who had moved in from a few towns over. He seemed the only one capable of getting along with everyone, and in particular the only one who could talk to Lavellan about her arm.

He had a bright green and orange Nerf Zombie Strike Outbreaker Bow (it was very important that he tell people that, as well as the fact that he'd named it Bianca, whenever they asked). He was firing nerf bolts at a tree while Cassandra whacked the mighty wood beast with a stick. Lavellan chucked a beanbag and shouted, "Fireball!"

Out of nowhere, Varric transferred the crossbow to one hand and dove for Lavellan's feet. "Quick! Solas says you need to use the Mark!"

"The what?" Lavellan looked to her feet, then to the hairless cat who had long ago gone limp in protest of the cape they'd forced him into.

"The Mark! Hold it up so the demon gate closes!"

With some difficulty, Lavellan raised the heavy arm and turned it to look at the swollen tumor that reached from her palm down to the cord of her wrist.

"Quickly!" Varric repeated.

She thrust her hand to the sky, and in their minds eye, the rift to the world of demons was closed. Cassandra's jaw was agape as she watched Varric hug Lavellan, declaring, "You did it!"

From then on, the rule was: you could only talk about Lavellan's arm if you called it the Mark. Even the adults were in on it.

"How did you get the Mark?"

"Is the Mark bothering you today?"

"Is it because of the Mark?"

The more the Mark spread, the longer Lavellan would be missing from their play sessions. Days, sometimes weeks at a time while wizards worked on reversing the "dark magic" that Corephyus had cast upon her. Sometimes she would appear out of nowhere, still in her pajamas, much to the delight of the other kids. Sometimes an exhausted mother would drag her back inside, scolding her for getting her bandages dirty.

It was an exciting day when they were fighting a massive spellcasting beast, a horned creature sent by an army from across the seas. It could suck power from the rifts, make itself bigger and stronger, and the only one who could stop it was Lavellan. Lavellan, with the skin on her palm still tender and pink from her last surgery. Lavellan, who had already spent the morning chasing the hairless cat Solas and closing the rifts he left in his wake. Lavellan, who thrust her hand at the sky, and then immediately doubled over in pain, screaming.

The girl collapsed, sobs choking her, clutching her wrist.

Sera knelt by her side and shook her shoulder. "What's wrong? is it the Mark?"

Lavellan nodded, her teeth gritted.

Cassandra tugged on Thom's sleeve. "Come on, we'll find help." And with that, dashed off into the woods.

Sera was shaking, her breaths heaving, fighting the urge to cry just as heavily as Lavellan was. "It's gonna be okay." She sniffled, wiping a tear away with her palm, "It's okay."

When Lavellan's mother came to carry her away, Sera ran home, and hid under her bed.

It was midnight by the time Sera's mother found her there.

Sera watched Taraline's familiar wrinkled feet appear just inches away from her.

"Sera? Are you in here?" Her mother called.

She made herself as still as possible, her breathing heavy even though her heart was pounding.

When Taraline's line-etched face appeared, she gasped, and crawled a few inches back.

"Hey." Taraline said.

The old woman slowly sank to the carpet, wincing as the pangs of age pinched her knees and spine. Resting her back on the nightstand, she said, "Lavellan's going to be gone for a few weeks. When they scanned her arm this time, they found three more ... 'Marks'."

Sera wanted to tell her that she was stupid. The tumors weren't individual Marks. There was only one Mark.

"The doctors decided it would be best to amputate her arm." She continued, "Do you know what that means?"

"Yeah! I'm not stupid!" Sera choked back a sob, wiping her eyes.

Taraline sighed, "It's not your fault, honey. You know that, right?"

Sera's chin was quivering, hot tears streaming down her cheeks.

"You kids did the right thing going to get an adult. Lavellan's going to be in the hospital for a while again. She's going to need her friends."

Taraline pulled herself up with her hands on the nightstand and bed. "When you're ready, I'll have some cookies downstairs for you." She said. Sera watched her feet walk to the door, and close it behind her.

It took a few minutes to work up the courage, but Sera eventually made her way downstairs and ate in silence.

The next morning, Sera was firing plastic arrows with suction-cup tips at a plastic target she'd hung on the wall, when there was a knock at her bedroom door.

"Sera, honey, your friend Dagna is here." Her mother's voice called.

The little auburn-haired girl pushed her way past Taraline's legs, a half-sheet of paper in her hand shedding silver and gold glitter as she went.

"I made Lavellan a get-well card. Do you wanna sign it?" Dagna asked while Taraline silently excused herself. Sera scoffed and fired another arrow, which stuck itself onto the center of the target. "Not like it's gonna help her any. She gets well and then gets sick all over again." She huffed, "She doesn't need another card, she needs an arm that doesn't have the Mark."

Dagna shrugged, her feet dangling off the edge of the bed, "Well I can't make her an arm so I made her a card." And with that, she patted the card that she'd set beside her .

Tossing the toy bow onto the floor, Sera moved to her desk and dug a pencil out of the drawer. A border of glitter surrounded a carefully sketched out group picture on the front of the card. On the inside, Dorian, Vivienne, and Dagna had already signed their names. Sera scrawled her own on the corner.

"Any arm you make's gonna be better than the one she has. Your drawing's really good." Sera said.

Dagna beamed, "Thanks! I guess I could make her one out of paper mache, but she couldn't wear it when it rains."

That perked Sera's attention. She set down the pen, turning her head slowly. "How would she wear it?"

"Well I have some ribbon at home. She could tie it on. I bet if Mom lets us use the hot glue gun we could get them to stick. Or maybe I could use Mom's stapler."

Suddenly, Seras hand was on top of Dagnas, their eyes meeting while Sera tugged her off the bed. "You. Are. BRILLIANT!" Sera declared.

The pair of girls rushed down the stairs, Sera explaining her plan all the while, "We'll make her a new arm. A better arm. We can paint it her favorite color!"

Sera continued to gush while the dug through the recycling bin for newspaper, cans and bottles that they discarded scattered everywhere. "She can put stickers on it and they'll never fall off. And she can get a tattoo and her parents won't ever say no, because she can draw it on herself."

They borrowed Cassandra to model. A sour face plastered on Cassandras face after she made the mistake of asking Sera why she thought the idea was so brilliant. Cassandra was forced to sit still while Dagna pressed layer after layer of wet newspaper on her arm, Sera carried on, "We can use pipe cleaners for her fingers and she'll never have to worry about dropping anything, because she can just twist them around stuff and keep her grip. And if she doesn't like that, she can just take them off. We can make her a hook hand like a pirate!"

Days turned into weeks as they worked on their project. It was the longest Lavellan had ever been gone, but it didn't phase Sera any as it gave them plenty of time to perfect the project. The more the word spread around the neighborhood, the more suggestions were made on improvements to the arm.

"You should make the wrist smaller so she can put on her bracelets." Said Dorian.

"If you use a wire hanger instead of pipe cleaners, she can roast marshmallows on her fingers." Varric laughed.

"You can't just paint it a solid color. You need to decorate it!" Vivienne tutted.

And, in a rare vocal moment, Cole whispered, "She's going to love it." while he signed his name on the card in black marker.

Sera recognized the familiar buzz in the house next door on the day Lavellan returned. Lavellan's father dragging luggage from the car into the house, Lavellan's mother trotting back and forth between the kitchen and the upstairs hallway, and then the familiar glow from Lavellan's bedroom window. She knew Lavellan was settled in long before

Taraline appeared in her doorway and informed her that Lavellan was back from the hospital.  
Sera and Dagna couldn't find any box big enough to fit the arm, so they'd wrapped it very gently in a white sheet, and Sera kept it held close to her chest while Dagna carried the accompanying card.

Lavellan's mother told them that she wouldn't be able to play for long, but they didn't need long to drop off the present. They found her in bed, a tiny TV on a table at her feet, playing an episode of Adventure Time. She glanced over as they entered, then winced when the arm that wasn't there tried to help her sit up. With some difficulty, she managed to pull herself up using one arm. "Hey, Sera. Hey, Dagna."

"We made you something!" Sera said, dropping the package onto Lavellan's lap, "And everyone helped but it was my idea."

"I made you a card." Dagna added, handing it to her. Opening it, Lavellan smiled, though was left with little time to read all the messages before Sera was on her case.

"Open your present!" She demanded, "Here, I'll help."

Lavellan removed a few folds of cloth while Sera worked at the other end, and slowly but surely, the arm was unfolded into her lap.

She froze at the sight. Painted pastel pink, the same shade as her bed sheets and curtains. Swirls of white and black paint forming a pattern that Dagna had painstakingly sketched. Stickers of just about every show that Sera could find and knew she liked - Adventure Time, Pokemon, Thundercats, and so on, pressed here and there to break up the pattern. Thick, sturdy wire fingers were twisted into the end, above a pasted-on "bracelet" made of gold glitter.

"Try it on!" Sera insisted, and Lavellan stayed frozen while she slipped the arm over the gauze and tied the ribbons, one above her shoulder and one under her arm.

Lavellan rose her stump of an arm, and the paper mache arm rose in its place. She moved the stump to and fro, and so to moved the new arm.

Her free hand wiped at her eye. She choked.

"Uh oh," Sera's face fell, a cringe forming on her face, "You don't like it."

"No," Lavellan whispered, swallowing back a sob, "I love it. I love it a lot. Thank you."

Sera and Dagna flanked either side of their friend to embrace her, being careful not to jostle the new hand-made arm. After all, they couldn't risk damaging it. Lavellan had plans to wear it for as long as possible.


End file.
